


slowly, softly

by bluehasnoclues



Series: harry potter oneshots [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, he's using a blood quill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 02:04:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17295611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluehasnoclues/pseuds/bluehasnoclues
Summary: Harry makes sure that Umbridge gets what she deserves.





	slowly, softly

“Until the message… sinks in.”

Harry had never hated anyone quite so much, and that was an accomplishment in of itself. He had a great many people to hate: Severus Snape, a bitter man who detested him equally for a reason beyond his control; Albus Dumbledore, the wise man who left him in an abusive household; the Dursleys, the abusive household itself; Tom Marvolo Riddle, his parents’ murderer; countless others, really, because that was just the kind of luck Harry possessed.

Still. No one could come close to matching the hatred he felt toward Dolores Umbridge. Besides perhaps the Ministry, who allowed a woman like her to have authority over a school of children.

Harry used to think he was a good person; he’d taken pride in the idea. It had always been something he’d valued, one of the few traits he’d held close to his chest and refused to let go.

Now, as he carved into his flesh with a quill, and his only solace could be found in the thought of her bones snapping one by one — he wasn’t so sure.

It wasn’t even so much the pain. Harry was used to asinine punishments. He’d literally had it beaten into him. But _this_ , when he _knew_ that other children younger than he were being affected, when _they_ didn’t have to —

Bloodied scars shimmered in the light as Harry silently made a promise to himself. And later, he knocked on the door of a lesser evil, with a question on his tongue that tasted both bitter and sweet.

“Professor Snape? I need to talk to you.”

-

“I know you’re a Death Eater.”

Snape stiffened at the softly-spoken words before smoothing out his expression. “The Headmaster —"

“I don’t care if you’re reformed, or whatever,” Harry cut in. “I just need a favour. A very, very large one.”

“Potter,” Snape warned. The privacy wards flared — testing their integrity, Harry assumed.

“And I’d prefer you not let Dumbledore know.”

Snape’s eyes morphed from dangerous to wary. “What are you thinking, Potter?”

Harry took a deep breath — not to steel himself, or re-evaluate, because he knew what he wanted better than he knew his name and his hand and the inside of his cold, dark cupboard and every line on his scarred body. There was no room for doubt in his heart. Not about this.

“I need to do something. And I need an alibi.”

-

Next Potions class, Harry received a weekend-long detention. Malfoy was nearly bursting with glee; Harry was filled with something akin to grim determination.

-

Snape carefully didn’t question Harry about where he disappeared to that weekend. For all intents and purposes, he was cleaning floors and scrubbing cauldrons.

Umbridge’s coinciding disappearance was, well, coincidence.

-

Harry was the only Parselmouth in the school, and Umbridge was paying her price. 


End file.
